Love story a Gravitation tale
by scarlettsweety
Summary: Love story- a Gravitation tale follows the destiny of shuichi and yuki eiri. The story takes place sometime during the anime, when yuki becomes way too selfish and arrogant, despite the fact that he is still fond of his lover.


Love story

The streets are empty, and it's blowing a hallowing gale outside. It should start raining soon, there's no doubt about that, since no one dares to go out on such a day. It's cold, it's so cold, and he feels so very alone. Strangely enough, he had never actually been alone before, since there had always been someone by his side –either his sister, either his family, either Hiro. But that was before. After meeting Yuki, his life took a different turn, and he considered himself to be happy. Was it ever happiness what he felt back then? Had he ever been content with his way of living? Or had it all been nothing more than a distorted illusion, a dream even the nightmare that prisoners have when they feel the end is near? He couldn't be sure- actually, he could never realize whether it was fascination or fright that he felt when he was close to Yuki. At that time, he considered his obsession with Yuki to be love. Clearly, it must have been love; otherwise, he wouldn't feel so hurt right now.

It's getting dark outside, it's pouring down heavily and the rain seems unlikely to stop any time soon. It's better this way, though… the rain seems to chill his head… or at least enables him to be alone with his thoughts. He has run for a long time now, and his chest is burning. Tired? Is he tired? He couldn't really tell. His feet are numb because of the effort and his arms ache, but his mind is wide awake. The last night had been long, so long… it had merely been a day now, but it seemed to him as though an eternity had passed since he had seen them… it was "his " Yuki, holding a girl gently by the hand… Yuki, acting strangely happy while kissing the back of her palm… and then her neck… There was no doubt about that, it had been Yuki already: he could recognize him with his eyes closed. It's just that… it didn't seem to be "his " anymore. And he feels tears building up in his chest once more; his eyes burn, and wanting to cry, he falls in an awkward manner to his knees. It's as if he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders, when in fact he was merely a boy. A feeling of fright comes over him, as he realizes he won't be able to see his Yuki anymore… How could he do this to him? How could Yuki, out of all people, choose Shuichi as the main actor on the stupid comedy that was to change his life forever? But then again, Yuki wasn't to blame. No. If anyone's, the fault was his, since it had been the boy who had forcefully entered his life. It had been the boy who, after moving in his flat, had constantly nagged the writer with stupid questions, as idiotic as his previous love confessions had been. Yes… he saw it clearly now… how lame his behavior had been… how perfectly idiotic he had managed to act… and a sudden pain flashes through his tired body. It is as though his chest is burning up, and the boy seems to have lost touch with the real world.

It is raining cats and dogs outside, but still, Shuichi doesn't seem bothered. His footsteps echo vaguely, and dark shadows guide his footsteps- as though they were calling him. Pain- that's all there is in both his soul, and his body. He had quarreled over some trivial thing with Hiro- and it had been his rush behavior that had led to a blazing row with what used to be his best friend. He remembered hitting the roof, when it had been his fault all along. And instead of apologizing, he insulted everybody and stormed out of the recording studio. But then again, that was after seeing them together…

Had it ever been easy? Had he ever given up? No- not really; not up until now, anyway. So why was he so insecure? What had brought about the change in his behavior? Looking back, he couldn't really explain it to himself. It had, after all, always been like this- the boy, always chasing after Yuki, always annoying him to the extent where the writer was left with no other choice than to accept it; if all the difficulties were to be avoided. He was after all so used with occasionally being kicked out of the flat because of his silly blunders or blubber mouthing, and he had never kept a grudge against Yuki regardless of the treatment he received from him, so why did he have to break down now? Why, out of all times, did he have to react like this now? That's it- Shuichi was the only one responsible… but then again, in spite of the rough behavior he had been forced to face, Yuki had always remained "his own"! That, he could be certain of… up until now…

Yuki couldn't be blamed, though. I mean, who wouldn't get bored with such a nuisance always following one around? Because Shuichi was perfectly aware of the fact that he was a nuisance… didn't his lover always throw that into his face?

The pain in his chest seems to be building up. With trembling hands, he fishes around in his pockets looking for his pills. He had been taking them for a month now, as part of his treatment. When his chest first started hurting, Yuki persuaded him into going to the doctor, despite the fact that "he" would never visit one by principle- "To cure the body by means of the senses and the senses by means of the body". But then again, he was a writer… of course he would rather treat an illness with a glass of red wine rather than by falling back on bad-tasting cough syrup. And the pain had subdued shortly after he had started taking that medicine. If everything went well, he was due to undergo surgery in another month- Nothing out of the ordinary, a simple operation that would, by no means, endanger the boy's life. Things, however, didn't go smoothly…

After a few days, the pain resumed, but the painkillers gave him the impression of managing to keep it under control, to some extent at least. There was also Yuki, who seemed constantly irritated and annoyed by anything the singer dared say. So he refrained himself from voicing his fears, his worries. After all, why worry Yuki in vain?...No… that wasn't it… he had been afraid that Yuki would call him a coward for not even being able to cope with a little pain… in fact, he had been afraid of nagging Yuki for the last three weeks. Since the writer seemed to be on the verge of madness and exasperation because another stupid deadline that he was never going to be able to meet. Yes… were he to be late again, his editor would quit- that, Shuichi found out for himself, while listening to some angry shouting in their home one evening… Yuki remained still and impenetrable, as always. He nor winced, nor did he bother with finding an excuse. Then, she rushed out of the door…

It therefore became obvious to Shuichi- it was of paramount importance that Yuki started writing. Again. As fast as possible. And for the writer to be able to do so, he had to quit complaining and making useless noise. In fact, he had been astounded by Yuki's indifference to the poor girl's complaints. As wrong as she may have been, his behavior had been mostly inadequate and inappropriate. And Shuichi feared that this same indifference might, some day, be addressed to him… so he chose to stay quiet… so he didn't complain anymore… Yuki was working and doing his share… and the boy had felt it was his duty not to disturb him. Then, although on his best behavior, Shuichi was, still, not in the writer's good books. "Shut up, idiot!"- And the boy had grown afraid of hearing those cruel words. Once, he would believe that all this cold and heartless behavior was just a mask; he had never understood Yuki as callous and arrogant, since he thought to discover, deep inside him, a fearful soul… an angel even, afraid of being hurt again. It was this Yuki that he really loved- that's why he could put up with the bad words and cruel behavior. Because he had slowly fooled himself into believing that deep down, the writer, too, loved him… love? Has it ever been love? And tears of anger and frustration find their way on cold cheeks…

Empty words… empty feelings, really… it had all been a blatant lie… from the outset. Looking back, it did feel as though all that love he seemed to harbor had, all along, been bound to fail, to be mocked of, to be made fun of. How ridiculous he feels now… Had Yuki purposely wanted to hurt him? To destroy him? Or had it all been just a game to him? After all, one doesn't find a puppy ready to fallow orders all the time… a puppy that would, by no means, bite the hand of his master…

No…no, that can't possibly be it…no… Shuichi, out of all people, should know Yuki best.

Now, there has to be some kind of misunderstanding, as usually. After all, the boy always tends to mix things up… once, he nearly poisoned both him and his lover, after trying to cook dinner, in order to patch things up with Yuki… and again, it had been his fault in the beginning…

Still- it's as though things had never been so bad before. And in his heart, the boy whished Yuki would deny everything- that he hadn't been out with that girl the other night, that they were not together and, most of all, he wanted him to say that he loved him… But Yuki isn't here with him tonight. He isn't here, to hold his hand, to reach out for him; at the end of the day, Shuichi is all alone in darkness so full of hatred.

With trembling fingers, he forces the medicine down his throat. It's repulsive, he feels as though he's going to throw up any minute now. Then, he remembers what Yuki once told him- something about destiny and life- it went along the lines of "the weak ones lose the fight… " , or something in that vein anyway. Was he weak then? Was he bound to break down, wasn't he able to withstand a simple illness? Was this precise weakness the reason why Yuki didn't accept him anymore? And he wants all this to be a bad dream, a nightmare… on opening his eyes, he sees nothing's changed- the night is still dark and full of pain. Just the rain is now gone. When did it stop? But then again, had it really rained?

The boy keeps going. He doesn't really know what to do, nor does he know where to go. He simply keeps on going…look! On the right, there's his school- it's pitch dark and he strangely presumes that the old building must be dead… as dead as his world. But no, he can't look back now, he mustn't think of anything, really… he just has to go on…go on? Where? It's like his footsteps are miraculously guided towards a secret destination. Secret? No… that's no secret no more. A few steps ahead, he stumbles across the post lamp where he first set his eyes on Yuki-"Zero. You've got ZERO talent"… yes- those had been his exact words- unfair, unjust, and excruciatingly painful. Beyond the world, to the end of time, where there will be no people, no lights, and no Yukis… that's where he wants to be, where he hopes to get. Seeing his vision only makes the boy sick. Fighting the illusions in his head, he struggles to reach the closest bench. He somehow feels unable to breathe, although he hasn't been running - or has he? Strangely enough, he doesn't seem to remember. Still… it's all right, since he doesn't care anyway. He just has to rest for a few moments, that's all. He'll be fine afterwards. Peering through the dark, he realizes it's already 3 o'clock in the morning…no, his watch must be out of order. It can't possibly be that late… after all, he simply went out for a walk- to clear his head. It was six in the afternoon when he left the recording studio, and he can't have been wandering around for more than 20 minutes now… or could he?

A sense of nausea flushes over him, and his stomach hurts. Again. Oh, yeah, he forgot to take his pills- he must definitely take them now- and he slips one into his mouth. But then, if it's already 5 in the morning, shouldn't he take another one? That's what his doctor told him once, when he forgot to take them for a whole day- he gave him a bigger doze, in order for the medicine not to lose its effect. That's what it's advisable to do under such circumstances, then… and he takes another pill… but the pain stubbornly refuses to go away. On the contrary, it's getting worse… and Yuki's face appears again right before his very own eyes. It's just a dream, and Shuichi somehow knows it. He desperately tries to fight it, but the picture refuses to go away. It's said that dreams reflect our deepest desires, our longings, our hopes. And wasn't Yuki all that he yearned to have? Wasn't Yuki his life? Then it is only normal that he would think of him…no… it's over now… it's all over between them. He should think of apologizing to Hiro instead. He just doesn't feel up to singing though. He had always longed for more and more, both from himself and from Yuki. And if not for his lover, he doesn't really know who to sing for. To cap it all, the silly pain in his head won't subdue either.

Standing up, he starts walking. Again. Through the merciless trees, and fighting a lost battle with the maze of his thoughts. The pain becomes unbearable, and his forehead burns. He's thirsty, yet he can't find his medicine. He must have left it on the bench. What bench? Oh, yeah… in the park. After ten minutes, he's back there. There's no track of the drugs, however. Had it all been a wild goose chase? He had to look carefully. So he had forgotten to take his pills again. The doctor will be mad on him. And so will Yuki, when he should get home. Home? That's right; he had another bottle full of the blue substance back home, in his drawer. But then, going back to the apartment means seeing Yuki. Again…

He can't help wondering… Has Yuki noticed his absence? Could the writer be worrying for him? Not very likely… A glimmer of hope finds its way into the boy's shattered heart. Maybe he does care. Maybe, just maybe, in spite of everything, Yuki does hold home affection for him. Even if it's not love… even if it's just pity, the boy should satisfy himself with just that. He's ready to accept anything- even being felt sorry for, as long as Yuki lets him stay by his side. As long as Yuki always comes back to him, it doesn't really matter who he's seeing or not. Provided that the singer isn't forgotten, he can as well pretend to carry on… yeah, right… as if the lie he'd been living in wasn't painful as it was…

Low. So low. When did he become so worthless? All the clouds stand still… will there be a morning? When did he lose his self confidence? And streets seem to turn into graves, even though no one seems to notice. He will return home. Yes. He will find that particular drawer, take whatever it is that he wants to take from its depths, and then leave, just like that. Surely, Yuki would be sleeping; after all, he never worries for him- two perfect strangers, that's what they had gradually become. And all of this was because of that bloated girl… no… it's because of himself, his hectic life and horrible personality that everything came about…

He has to go back… The air is getting colder, and there's something mean in the shining of the stars above, in the blowing of the wind and in the black of the trees And why are the buildings around him moving? Are they mocking him too? As sick as he might be, houses should stay put. Surely, there's no earthquake going on… why are things upside down then? Oh, no… he's on the ground, tripping over God knows what, and feeling covered in something sticky. It's as though he sweats blood, too… and it hurts all over… Getting up once more, he feels exhausted. Where in the world is his apartment? He isn't drunk, he knows that… but he feels like the first time he ever tried beer, when it was Hiro who had to carry him all the way back to his apartment. It was his friend who nursed him back to life after such a night, and made it clear to the boy that Shuichi couldn't take alcohol. Why had the singer drank again tonight then? And why wasn't Hiro with him? His mind was numb…

Right. He finally made it to the front door. Quite about time, too. The door opened with a creak, and the apartment was filled with the artificial light that came from the lamp post outside his… no, Yuki's house. Good… his lover was asleep- why hadn't he thought of coming here before? As long as he doesn't see him, Shuichi doesn't have to face his fears and agony no more. Sneaking through the door into the apartment, he almost stumbles across the sofa and breaks his favorite CD-s of his favorite singer. Who was that again? He couldn't quite remember…hmm… his mind was kind of blurry…it doesn't matter; he'll have plenty of time to think of that later, once he has left this bloated room. He's made it so far, it's just a matter of minutes now, and he'll be out of here in no time. On opening the bedroom door, he finds a pair of angry eyes staring sharply at him, and Shuichi feels as though the air in the room has become far colder than the rain he had faced when on the streets… Normal. He has to sound normal, he has to smile naturally and stupidly, as he always does… Not very convinced of his own act, Shuichi walks into the room, awkwardly apologizing for the delay… Hiro's guitar had broken down, it had to be repaired, and then Thoma had forced them to rehearse until late at night…

Was the boy mocking him? Had he no idea of the time? Was he drunk or something? It was outrageous of him, not to answer his bloody cell phone- that's what it was made for- so that one could get in touch with people when one is late! And Yuki was about to snap at the boy, when Shuichi's lost eyes and frightened voice made his heart ache. Covered in blood and mud, the poor child was muttering something about forgetting to take his medicine, and his whole being seemed so pathetic and broken, that Yuki knew something terrible had happened. On seeing the boy staggering and limping, he wanted to approach him, and look him into his eyes. When he tried to touch his hand, Shuichi flinched as though he had been burned. And no answer came to Yuki's questions. That was just too much! Fury replacing pity, Yuki grabbed his lover's hand and, despite scared moans and struggling, he managed to push him into a corner. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he acting like this? Gasping, Yuki soon realized it- his clothes were soaking wet, his hands ice-cold and his forehead burning. Obviously dizzy, the boy kept struggling and, in an attempt to break free, apart from bruising him, Shuichi nearly made Yuki kneel because of pain- how the hell was the boy so strong? Gasping and breathing hard, his stomach still hurt him. It was a fight for life and death- as if the boy was a prisoner. Was Shuichi that afraid of "him"? What Yuki feared the most wasn't a fit of jealousy, nor was it being hated by the boy- it was loosing him that terrified him. Would he let go of his hand, the boy was bound to run away again- in his state, who knows what he might do? More than he had already done… It was wrong…all was so very wrong- the brat in his arms, gasping for air and begging him to let go; he even accused Yuki of hurting him… hurt him? Why on earth would Yuki Eiri harm him? Fear washed over him as he leaned down and, grabbing his face, forced a kiss down Shuichi's lips. He could sense fear building up in the boy's heart, he felt him tensing up, but kept on regardless. Fever. The boy was most certainly running a fever, while violently shaking against his chest. Then all resistance faded away, and Yuki was somewhat relieved as he felt the boy clinging to his neck. There was also an attempt of answering to the kiss, and then Yuki felt a hand tugging at his t-shirt and shivered as he felt icy hands running down his spine… icy hands, contrasting so much with the burning warmth of the lips. By the time he could make out a faint "I'm sorry, Yuki…", the paramedics were already on their way- he had already dialed 911. The ambulance arrived only to find a dying child in some feverish arms- the father was more frightened than the sick toddler… Amethyst eyes rolled backwards, tilted head, meaningless muttered words- it was all that there was left of the once exuberant teenager.

No relative of the boy had held his hand during surgery- only Yuki had been there for his lover. He would never leave him again. Was the boy going to dye, Yuki knew what to do… easy, really… it's just like when, after ending a book, it comes hard to the writer to part with his characters. But he knows there's no other way, otherwise it will all become too boring for the reader to stand… And then, after some time, he starts another book. Just like death, really…- it's just that, this time, the story shall have no characters- its pages will be white- as white as snow... as white as Shuichi's pure smile…… no… he wouldn't think about this right now… he would take one thing at a time… slowly… so very slowly…

He had never believed in anything in his entire life…not really… because they had all seemed so worthless to him- people, society, fake dreams and big words; they were nothing than awful lies. He had grown so used to living in an empty world, that he had ended up believing there was no joy in living. Life had been so meaningless, and all hope in whatever the future held for him seemed rather shallow, somewhat faded and colorless. And he would even mock those silly fans, making fun of their so-called love for the author of those blockbuster novels he positively despised- because they depicted love… a love so pure, that was almost unattainable…almost? That kind of love was virtually impossible… and yet… he could shamelessly write about it, without really feeling anything at all. Pretense- it was all very easy this way… until one day, when this awfully stupid kid had crossed his way, and his life was never the same…

A puppy really, easily maneuvered- that's what he thought the brat was. Still, this same brat had personality and a love ready to blossom and to be freely given away. And Yuki had, somehow, been chosen as the object of this boy's admiration… how could vanity say no when it saw innocence right before its own lusty eyes? And he had been egotistic enough as to take all this for granted, just like a god gets angry if his subjects don't worship him… a god… surely that's what he was to the dying boy now… Well, he was nothing of the sort… all that façade had been nothing but pretense and vanity… he was nothing but a coward… and how unnervingly afraid he was right now…

The boy was innocent, after all, he had never done anything wrong… if anyone, it was him, Yuki, who should have paid the price of his actions… not this kid… not "his" kid…because Shuichi belonged, undoubtedly, to him. .. … Was he to lose the boy, then… but no…no living soul let alone a divinity had the right to take the life of a good child…Shuichi had to live…

When the editor came, the following day, she found the door of his apartment wide open. A bunch of papers were lying on the desk, while another handful was spread all over the carpet. Most of a notebook with pages filled with black ink had, however, been torn to pieces. There was no life in the lonely apartment. There was no story, either…

7


End file.
